"The best Christmas ever"

Christmas is just a week away.  Time to finish up all the shopping, wrap all the gifts, plan the meal that I will cook for my family.

I can't help but think of my mom and the traditions we had.

I remember all the Christmases as a child.  We loved to go driving around together as a family, looking at Christmas lights. I remember my mom cussing while putting up the Christmas tree, the one we had was such a pain and she'd get frustrated, but once she got it up, we'd enjoy decorating it.

We had Christmas Eve dinner at Maw Maw's house.  Oh the food was amazing, so much better than what I cook now.  Maybe it's because I didn't have to cook it.  Laura and I would finish before everyone else, and head to the tree to start sorting presents.  We would sort them out and stack them for each person, and then wait impatiently to open them.

We never really believed in Santa, so a lot of times we'd convince Mom that we should open our gifts at home on Christmas Eve too.  Looking back, I wonder how mom and Maw Maw managed to give so much.  I think of what they must have sacrificed in order to give us such a good Christmas.

When I got married, we changed the traditions a little.  We spend Christmas Eve with Jimmy's family.  After we finish there, we head home so we can all open our new pajamas.  The boys head to bed, and it's time for me and Jimmy to play Santa.  My mom didn't think kids should believe in Santa, but I like the magic of Santa and the idea of believing in something you can't see.  It is important to me, and so we stay up late, putting together gifts and eating cookies.

The boys get up early.  I mean EARLY.  Last year I think it was around 4:00.  We get up, see the Santa gifts and open stockings.  Then I get breakfast ready while we wait for my mom and sister to come over.  They come over in their pj's.  We open all of our gifts to each other, and then we have breakfast.

This will be the hard part this year.  The part that will hurt, the part I cry about when I think of it.  Last year, mom seemed more tired than usual.  Makes sense now, the cancer was already doing it's damage, although we didn't know it yet.

Laura and mom leave after breakfast,  Mom has to work on the ham, I have to start cooking.  We have dinner around 5:00, and the rest of the family comes over.  After we eat, open gifts and play for awhile, I say the phrase I have said for years and years.  In fact, last year I almost forgot and mom said, "Aren't you going to say it?"

"This was the best Christmas ever".

And that will be the last time I say it.  Not that we won't have a wonderful Christmas.  Not that I won't enjoy seeing my family and giving them gifts and showing our love for each other.  But it can never be the best Christmas ever.  Not anymore.

I ask that you say a prayer for my family.  For all the families I know that have had a loss this year.  Who are celebrating Christmas without a parent or a child or a friend.  I hope you all have a blessed holiday. Merry Christmas!

Not my proudest moment...

Today did not start out well.

Well, it was good when the kids were still asleep.  I got up, had my coffee, made it to the gym.  Feeling good.

I get home and Drew is a nightmare.  Just in a horrible mood.  Crying over everything. Screaming at his brothers.  Making everything so much more difficult.  When he is like this, the older boys get on my nerves more.  The normal noise that they make is amplified by 1000.  I asked them several times to be quiet.  I asked Chris to stop picking on Luke.  I asked Luke to stop blowing on the horn.  (a funnel that Drew got from somewhere and they have used it as a "horn" ever since).

And still, we get in the car, and Drew is crying.  And Chris is being obnoxious.  And Luke is making noise with that damn funnel.  And then Drew starts yelling at them to be quiet and the car is filled with so much noise that I'm sure it registered on the Richter scale.

So this is the part of the store where I wish I could tell you that I calmly stopped the car (in the driveway, we hadn't even made it to the street yet), and gently but firmly asked them all to refrain from waking the freaking dead with their ridiculous noise.  And that they promptly and politely complied.


....


That is not what happened, I'm afraid.  Something inside of me snapped.  And I yelled, at the top of my lungs, "STTTTOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP IIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!  STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!".  For a solid 20 seconds I yelled at the top of my lungs.  The older boys laughed at first and then just stared in amazement.  And Drew immediately burst into tears.  Terrified, horrified, I'm three years old and my mom has lost her marbles tears.

And so, I stopped the car.  And I got out, and I walked back to Drew, and I hugged him.  And I apologized and explained that he felt bad because I yelled, just like I feel bad when he yells.  I wiped his tears away.  Told the older boys I was sorry.  Told them all I loved them.  (Drew refused to say it back).  Got in the car and had a quiet ride to school.

All is well, Drew has forgiven me and loves me again.  The older boys are fine as usual.  I feel a little guilty, I normally don't lose it like that.  But I know it happens to all of us.  When we reach that point, and the stress is so high and the noise gets louder and no one is listening.  And we explode.  I don't like that I behaved that way, but at least my children know that I am human and make mistakes just like them.  At least they know that it's what you do AFTER you make a mistake that matters.  And how you learn from it.  And next time, I will just stop the car, get out, and scream into my jacket.